Handcrafted colors of memories
That I won't ever see again
That I won't value as I used to do back then
I'm left to float
In current moments
And suddenly
The past is crashing under my feet
It cuts me out
Leaving me to listen to my heart
and follow its worthless beat
All I have -
Boxed up stories burning in a flame of times
Two zeros on rolling dice
If our past wasn't real and no future
Then what else do I have left to think of?
You came straight into my head
And set the bomb, remembering anything
And all days slip away and it feels like
Short-term memory loss
I guess it’s part of maturity
Colliding images of me
So harsh and so conspicuous,
You all could see
But why so cold in others' houses?
And where should I direct my sail if everywhere’s darkness?
Makes no sense
To go ahead and look in the past again
Knowing you've got no chance
All I have is a broken compass, arrow pointing west
An I’m seeking the island (sick on the island)
Before you build the new
You gotta break the old
And when you start make sure there’s nothing else to hold
It’s all inside your head, it’s breathing in your neck
Just try and don’t look back
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